In 3’s. OR Break Me Off a Piece of That Kit Kat Bar.
It’s my Dad’s birthday today.
He’s only 69 and in a nursing home, because apparently memory care is a joke- he has Alzheimer’s. They have the length of 2 short hallways to walk, a ‘day room’ that has a television, and their own tv in the cubby-like bedroom that he shares with another dementia patient. No outside access unless signed out by a family member.
My dad doesn’t belong there. He’s not that far gone. He needs care, yes. But this place...
My dad’s appeals to me to get him out of that farce of a living situation are moot. I can’t help him. I barely slept all night.
I saw the home for the first time yesterday. Day 3 of a red-letter week for me wherein I’d already been knocked on my ass.
Last week, I was unequivocally pushed out of my job, but the state has denied me unemployment, because I expressed to my boss that I was unhappy and looking. I didn’t quit and after 20+ interviews... well, here I am in a twilight zone- day 4 of the first work week post-job.
I’m going to appeal the unemployment decision with a pro-bono legal service in town. Fingers crossed.
I want to work. I just don’t have work.
Also, I was told by someone who cares for me that they don’t want me. Mindfuck infinity. That was on day 1. I graciously let it be. That’s what you do, right? And I meant it too- the grace thing. The place of grace. It was real and painful and selfless (don’t pat me on the back).
I don’t blog or post on SM about heartbreak. There’s a dignity thing I have anxiety about. Being an over-sharer is only a pro if it’s fun or gives voice to an issue.
I won’t appeal this person’s decision. Like I said, the agreeable acceptance of it was genuine and for whatever reason I believe behooves in my quest to be a decent human.
A term that only feels dignified if it’s in the legal realm.
Sit with the pain and be noble.
Be ‘strong’. Have ‘dignity’. Oh, and it’s not about ‘you’.
Sit in the mindfuck of the week and be normal.